What's your source of joy?

I had a startling realization last week: I currently have no reliable source of joy in my life.

Wait, how can that possibly be true? But it is.

This realization came via a podcast about finding joy in writing

In this podcast, the host pointed out that if you’re not finding joy in your writing, then you need to have a reliable alternate source.

And that is when I realized: I currently have none.

That hasn’t always been the case. Cold plunging brings me joy, as does going for beach walks with the dog, dancing, gathering people I care about around a table, even reading books.

But, for one reason or another (work, deadlines, the state of the world), the past few months I have been missing all of these things.

This may also be why the past few months have felt so hard. I hadn’t put those two things together until now.

Sure, I am still doing many of the things I do to keep myself going (nature walks, exercise, tracking my moments, seeking out glimmers), but I haven’t had a reliable source of joy. I am good at appreciating what is there, but I haven’t been deliberate about adding more to the pot.

I was astounded. I think about joy much more than the average person—I write about it regularly. And yet life got busy and I lost sight of the ball. It happened without me even noticing.

It’s humbling, really. This reminder. I need to stay on top of things. Especially in these days. I need to be deliberate.

All week I’ve been thinking of ways to foster reliable joy sources.

Some people think you cannot plan for joy—that it just shows up from time to time, like a bluebird, entirely outside our control.

I take a middle path—I think you can invite joy in, you can set the table, you can figure out what activities or places or people make your spirits soar. Will you reliably hit the joy mark all the time? Not likely. But getting close is still pretty fun.

We are edging into a new season and I am thinking about the things that reliably bring me joy. Such things are as individual as a fingerprint, but this is what I’m working on right now.

Artwork: I am not a talented or skilled artist, but something about painting and drawing makes me happy. When I realized I had a joy gap, I pulled out a new set of watercolors I bought over the winter. Right now I am doing Karen Abend’s Sketchbook Revival. All the on-demand videos are free for a limited time (it ends this coming week).

Dance: something about dance never fails to make me happy—be it dancing in the kitchen, or a proper class. I was doing a lot of dancing over the winter, but it fell off my radar and I can feel the difference. It’s time for me to schedule it in, and maybe look into a class or two (there are great online options, if you prefer privacy).

Being near water: summer is here and being on, near, or in water always makes me happy. Time to make sure I get enough cold plunging, rowing, kayaking, and paddle boarding in this summer—and sailing, if I am lucky. This is the sort of thing that won’t happen unless I make it a priority.

It’s time to get after all the good that I can.

What about you? Do you have a reliable source of joy in your life right now? What sort of things make you supremely happy? I’d love to hear.

I asked a few friends what works for them and the answers ran the gamut:
Dance Church
Running
Playing a musical instrument
Being artistic or crafty
Thirty minutes of reading before bed.

As always, it matters less what it is and more that you work it into your life in a regular manner. And lesson to me: this is not “set it and forget it.” Even the best things can slide to the side when life gets intense. I’m going to make sure to be more deliberate.

I hope you have a really good weekend.

—Tara

I’ve started a series on my other Substack to help understand the US political events of these times (there’s a lot of historical background that isn’t taught, or not taught well). This summer I’m hosting a community listen of the award-winning podcast series on American democracy titled The Land That Never Has Been Yet (from the Duke Univ Center for Documentary Studies). Understanding historical context feels like the best first step, and doing it together provides company and support. I hope you’ll consider joining in.
• Project introduction:
• Episode One: The Land That Never Has Been Yet